


ghosts

by fromthehillbythelake



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthehillbythelake/pseuds/fromthehillbythelake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are not ships passing in the night. They understood each other better than anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. +

* * *

…  
  
She’d been thinking about her period a lot, constantly in fact, which was especially annoying since she knew she wasn’t due for another week…

maybe…

And so, with a huff and a groan, when she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, it all makes sense.  
  
A premonition, of sorts.  
  
Her desk light casts a warm glow, too hot and bright for her eyes to adjust right away, but she can already tell she’s overslept.    
  
It’ll be morning soon.  
  
She’s pulled herself out of bed before even thinking to ask Candy to turn the light off for her, dragging her feet to the bathroom to clean herself up.  
  
Wiping the blood from inside her thighs, she asks Candy if her alarm is set for the next morning, just to be sure.  
  
"For 8:00am, Miss Tsunemori!  Shall I have your sheets changed?"  
  
Akane rubs her eyes, no longer groggy but brimming with tears, as she sits on the toilet.  
  
"Yes," she says, finding her voice.  "Please."  
  
 _Why did her day have to start out like this?  
  
At least, _she thinks, _I wasn’t sleeping too deeply.  At least, he didn’t visit me tonight._

…

He doesn’t say anything, never does.  
  
Just sits on the chair in the corner, on the ledge in the kitchen, on the edge of her mattress.  
  
Before, she was always running.  Running after him with all her might, though he was always just out of reach.  Now, he waits, in the confines of her home…never out of sight and entirely unashamed.  Not like they used to be, like they used to dance…out in a field, on equal ground.  Just always out of reach.  
  
"What do you want?" she says, eating a meal or getting dressed or going over case files.  It never matters.    
  
He says nothing.  Like always.  
  
Comes up behind her, ignoring her intake of breath, and trails a finger across the back of her neck.    
  
She doesn’t stop him.  Never does.  
  
His lips descend on her skin, one hand on her throat, the other touching her breast.  She gasps, still unsure of where to place her hands after all this time.  Fearing it’s really only air after all.  
  
His breath is hot on the back of her neck, and her knees buckle ever so slightly when his tongue darts out to wet her skin.  It’s become so familiar, to have him hard against her back, nipping and biting at her throat, that she’s forgotten how she slept without him.  
  
"Shinya- _ah_ …” she purrs, needy and aching like so many nights before.

.  
  
 _Maybe it won’t happen tonight._

_._  
  
He sucks on that spot just below her ear, aggressive and greedy and completely unrepentant, and she loves it.  Moans as he presses her against the desk (yesterday it was the table, before that, the kitchen sink), losing herself in his caresses.  Yielding entirely, her body surrendering to him once more.  
  
Then, she hears it, inevitable and as always, unforgiving.  Rain, drowning out her voice as his hand slips lower, slowly unclasping the button of her skirt.  
  
He doesn’t seem to hear it: the droplets pounding on the tiles, the countertop, their skin.  
  
"Shinya," she begs, putting her hand atop his as he strokes his fingers over her panties.  
  
She tries to move his hand faster, hearing the rain pick up, but he doesn’t change his pace, merely pulling at the buttons on her shirt now.

.  
  
 _Not tonight_ , she pleads,  _please not tonight_.

.  
  
The rain is thunderous now, like the ocean tide, and Akane grinds back against him, knowing she can’t face him.  She’s already tried so many times.  
  
"Please," she moans, "faster Shinya, please, please, please-"  
  
It’s deafening, like she’s being thrown into a waterfall, and the tension nearly tears her apart, but he still refuses to pick up speed.  She almost hates him for it.  
  
"Shin-ya-" she cries, her voice breaking, and with a resounding thunder clap, suddenly she wakes up, as if she really did jump from the top of the waterfall.  
  
Her hand is down the front of her panties, her skin shimmering with sweat, and it takes a moment for her breathing to slow.

.

.

.  
  
 _She was so close_.  
  
She doesn’t try to stop the tears this time, plays with herself ashamedly just a little bit longer to hear the wetness, to feel sick about it later, because right now she only feels unsatisfied.  
  
He’s never said a word, all these nights he’s visited, and she’s glad, because then she can pretend.  
  
That she wants to face him, wants to hear his voice and bear the weight of the words on his tongue.  
  
And she can pretend that she didn’t see Shogo Makishima’s face again in the very last seconds before she came to, amber eyes piercing through the water.    
  
 _They are not ships passing in the night._  
  
She lies in bed for the last 20 minutes before her alarm goes off, pretending a lot of things.  
  
…

 


	2. -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -pretty nsfw

* * *

...

She’s lying on the floor when she opens her eyes, and it’s odd because the cement beneath her isn’t how it should be.  It isn’t cold at all.  
  
It’s clear that she’s waiting for something.  As if the entire universe conspired to have her here, now, at this very moment, naked and lined up for slaughter.  

.

 _Why isn’t she afraid?_  
  
It’s too bright to make out anything too high above her, so she stares down at her feet, vision flashing suddenly with images of…

A subway… _she’s been here before…_

A trap door opens at her feet…she hears screeching: metal on metal…  
  
She isn’t afraid.    
  
He’s here again.  
  
The door opens - quietly, carefully - and her legs open too, her calves sliding…  
  
What’s that word…

.

.

.

_anticipation._

.  
  
She can’t see his face, like any other night.  It’s a black figure, blurring in and out, that crawls towards her thighs.    
  
He is not nameless.  
  
If she were to put her fingers in between her legs, she knows she’d be wet.  Can feel the heat spilling from inside, falling onto a floor that should be cold but isn’t cold at all.  
  
This is the furthest they’ve ever gotten.

.  
  
 _Not tonight_ , her legs fall open wider,  _please not tonight._

.  
  
She shifts forward, eyes closed, stomach trembling, and wonders what will happen if she calls out his name.  How it would feel on her tongue…  
  
His fingers part her lips - first her labia, then her - and her whole body jerks, fire crackling up her spine as her eyes snap open and she cries out.  It’s him, not some ghost of a dream, just  _him_  like she remembers.  
  
His puts his mouth on her, hot and wicked, and it’s so real this time - not empty like the palm of her hand or painful like a whisper - it’s so real she could cry, moans as his tongue sucks and swirls over her pink flesh.  
  
It isn’t fair.  
  
Her hands are in his hair, fingers raking his scalp and tugging till she’s sure it hurts, but he doesn’t stop, his grip so tight on her thighs she knows she’s going to bruise.  
  
She wants him inside her - _insidemeinsidemeinsideme_  - wants to feel the weight of him, wants him to take her on every surface till she’s begging, can’t stop the way her legs clasp tighter around his neck, forcing his tongue deeper.

.  
  
Her vision is hazy… __  
  
a subway…  


_no-_

_a field…_

_no-_

_a factory…_

_NO!_  
  
She hears the iron pumping around them, remembers the hum of the machines in the control room.  
  
Ko’s mouth doesn’t stop working and she’s knows they should flee, knows that nothing good will come of this.  But she’s unafraid, ignoring the…

what’s that word?

.

impending

.

.

.

 _doom._.

.

needing this, needing him, just a little bit longer.   _Why can’t they stay like this just a little bit longer?_  
  
"Shinya!" she writhes, knowing he won’t answer.  Knowing that the walls could cave in and she still wouldn’t stop.

.  
  
Only when he lifts his head, and she catches a sliver of blue in the darkness, does she roll herself over and out of the nightmare, breathing hard as she escapes from underneath her sheets.    
  
They’re too hot, she’s too hot, and she nearly chokes when she mistakes the sweat on her skin for rain.  
  
"Miss Tsunemori!" Candy calls cheerfully.   _Powder blue_ , always powder bl-  
  
Blue and not amber…

 _I see…you are…_  
  
…

Kougami Shinya wakes with a start and immediately has to sit up, slamming his own chest with his fist to try and stop his lungs from seizing.  
  
 _Stop_ , he growls, “Stop it.”

His hands and mouth and tongue had been his before they were  _his:_  crawling over her like a spider, trapping her in his web.  
  
He smacks his own cheek, hard, when black hair fades to white in between her thighs, his vision blurring.  
  
 _"Shinya!"_

Like honey; soft and sweet and everything he’s ever wanted, filling him up and making him whole.  
  
"You’re not like him," he snarls - red splattering, her shrieking - "You’re nothing like  _him_!”

 _Monster…_  
  
His heart staccatos - her brown, brown eyes close - his lungs collapse.  
  
 _Monster…_  
  
Like honey; amber.

_…_

_They are not ships passing in the night._  
  
"Because.  I am," she says, lying back.  "I am.

_…_


End file.
